


The Flatbed

by lmeden



Series: A Dark Desert Highway [2]
Category: I Am Number Four (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/lmeden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The autumn heat faded to a whisper weeks ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flatbed

The autumn heat faded to a whisper weeks ago, but it’s still warm enough that they can sleep outside, curled around each other, paying for nothing underneath the stars. John turns over, halfway aware of the sun beginning to rise and lighting the sky and the chill of an almost-frost clinging to his sweats. He’s too heavy to move.

Dog is curled at his back, a spot of heat that warms his entire spine, and Sam covers his front. His faces presses into John’s neck and he shifts, arm curling over his side and hot breath hissing out, pouring over his skin. John smiles, eyes shut, and opens up, legs stretching out and down, shoulders turning back, chin rising, to give Sam access.

Sam shifts, rolling his shoulder and stroking his hands down John’s body. His lips part to mouth open kisses across the delicate skin of John’s neck. His fingers slip under John’s sweatshirt and over his stomach, cool and shivery. John rolls onto his back and Sam follows, his hips weighing down on John’s, his hardness obvious. John keeps his eyes closed.

Sam pushes up, away from him, and John reaches up to pull him down. He wraps his arms around Sam’s shoulders, but he’s braced himself, and John doesn’t want to force him. He lets Sam move back down until John’s fingers trail through his hair, tripping over and snagging in the knots before he’s gone. John lets him go and reaches up, smearing his hands across his eyes, trying to wipe the sleep away enough to open them and clear the haze from his brain.

He’ll be back. Sam always comes back. John will push him down onto their thin blankets, pulls his sweats off until he sweats in the thin morning air and gasps for breath, eyes wide.

There is a soft chuckle from down by his feet and John jerks, surprised. Sam’s nails, uncut for weeks, scratch as he pulls at the waist of John’s sweats. Eagerly, John shifts, hitching his hips up as Sam slides the sweats down. His boxers come with them, and he feels himself spring free. His heart pounds, palpable in his every extremity.

Sam’s breath is hot on him, a caress across his thighs that has nothing to do with the physical.

“Oh,” he breathes, wordless and thoughtless.

Sam’s lips part around him and then he is engulfed, liquid heat around him and searing through him. He arches up and Sam sucks in. He imagines his cheeks hollowing and his eyes screwed tightly shut, concentrating just as John is.

One of John’s hands slams down onto the side of the truck bed – metal groans as he grips it tightly, and his palms burn. Sam pulls back and licks. John bucks up, feeling blown, over the edge and lost. He doesn’t want to hurt Sam, but.

“God, _Sam_ ,” he hisses, and metal screams under his clawing fingers, melting away under his strength, and Sam’s hands around his hips, his mouth around his dick, are on fire.

With a long, slow lick, Sam swallows and sits back. John listens to his breath coming fast and opens his eyes. He lets his head roll to the side and gazes down the line of his body. Sam is straddling him, legs splayed over his own and shoulders thrown back.

John pulls him down, tumbling him over and rolling until he is on top. He kneels between Sam’s legs and grins wildly. He feels alive, coursing with vitality. The tip of every fingertip that brushes Sam’s skin sends sparks though him.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” Sam sounds casual, and certainly looks it as he rolls over and reaches for one of the bags nearby. But John can see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips and doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Just fine, no thanks to you.”

“What?” he rolls back to look at John then. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?”

John laughs outright, some of the needy tension running out of him. He leans down and Sam’s face goes soft and thoughtful. He reaches up and runs his fingers through John’s fringe.

“It’s true, though, you’re quite—“

And John cuts him off with a kiss, his tongue slipping into Sam’s mouth and his lips parting wide. Sam hums and twists, turning his face into it and twining his arms around John’s waist. He pulls them close, their hips locking together. John grasps him by the back of the neck and kisses him until they’re both breathless.

He pulls back then, and while Sam is still blinking John moves away, down his body until he’s crouched over his hips, leaning low. He doesn’t look up, just stares as he pulls Sam’s sweats down. Nervousness churns in him – he’s never done anything like this before, not even with Sam.

Sam’s dick presses up against the soft cotton, prominent and entrancing. John can’t look away as it springs free, and he shoves the sweats down out of sight. He wants to touch it and wrap his mouth around it, but he hesitates just inches away, lips parted. Sam’s done this already, to him. John wants to surprise him.

He pushes his nervousness away and closes the gap. He licks Sam’s erection, all the way down its length, savoring the heat against his tongue. Far away, Sam groans.

But he doesn’t stop there. John moves, wrapping his lips around the base, burrowing his nose in the thick hair there. He feels hungry and sharp. As if his every motion puts Sam on edge, which it does. He mouths Sam’s balls.

Sam shivers, a full body twitch that runs straight through him, and he spreads his legs, letting them fall open and shifting, straining towards John. John takes one of his balls into his mouth, licking it and just barely grazing with his teeth. He closes his eyes for a moment and shifts, moving to the other and giving it the same attention. Sam is panting.

So is John. He peers upward, but can’t see beyond the slight swell of Sam’s stomach. He grips Sam’s hips tightly, fingers digging in around the bones, just hard enough to make him whine. He twitches, bucks upward and John moves down.

He pushes Sam’s hips up and nuzzles his head under, pushing his nose between Sam’s cheek and licking.

“Ah!” Sam cries, bucking upwards and giving John room.

John licks again, and again, over Sam’s spasming hole and into it as he gasps for breath.

“Yes, yes, yeah…” Sam is whispering for him.

He licks in rhythm – long, slow laves of his tongue that soften Sam under him and, finally, send him into a delicious shuddering stiffness. John keeps licking, though he knows that Sam is finished.

He laps at Sam’s hole, unsatisfied. Sam shifts, his legs coming up and around John’s waist. Hands stroke down John’s back and he shivers, pulling back.

Sam is folded over, legs spread around John and hands imploring. John moves forward and into a deep kiss. He reaches down and grasps Sam – he’s soft now, but not for long if John has any say.

The distant roar of Six’s bike startles and forces them apart. They both scramble, reaching for clothes and shifting blankets to disguise conspicuous stains. John slides off the truck bed and Sam follows – he slams the gate behind them and turns with a grin.

When Six slows down on the shoulder, she pauses only to say sourly, “And why are you two so happy all of a sudden? Stop it,” before roaring away.


End file.
